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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224401">My True Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubyya/pseuds/Rubyya'>Rubyya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2019-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2019-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:06:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>934</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224401</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubyya/pseuds/Rubyya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If I don't make it as a fisherman, at least I know where I can go.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My True Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The summer heat is almost unbearable and it feels like heaven when I walk into the cool interior of the Radiant Ale. Today my dad decided he needed some time fishing without me. Some time alone he said. More likely he was tired of me messing up. I can’t blame him though. I do mess up a lot. I don’t belong on the sea though. I belong here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Robert!” I yell as I close the door. He looks up from where he's cleaning the bar and smiles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello yourself.” He says as I walk over, “Are you here to work today or are you here to enjoy a drink?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Both,” I tell him as I hop over the bar. I go into the kitchen ignoring Robert yelling at me to stop doing that. I say Hi to Roberts wife. His three kids are probably doing things around. Even though it's a family run tavern they always let me help out. I guess I’m that much like family. I grab the extra apron on the wall and put it on. I've long since mastered the art of tying a knot behind my back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are we making today?” I ask Rachel, Roberts wife.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Roasted Pork, potatoes, and bread with blackberry jam.” She says, and plops a big lump of dough in front of me. “You'll be in charge of the bread. This should make five loaves. When those are baking make another batch of dough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turns away and starts yelling at someone else about how to peel potatoes. I smile as I start to knead the dough. Rachel may be direct but that's just how she shows her love. She doesn't sugar coat things. I guess that's because her parents always sugar coated everything and she hated it. She grew up in Hiberia during King Ferris’s reign. Her parents would never tell her how bad anything was. Roberts family was like that too. I guess King Ferris’s reign wasn't a good one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I finish kneading the dough and break it up into five blobs. I round them out then put them into the fire. It's burning low. I should put some more wood in it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! Fish! Get out of the way! I need to put more wood in!” Herb yells at me. He's the oldest son and doesn't particularly like me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine. I was going to get wood but it looks like you already got some.” I tell him as I move out of the way. Sheesh. Men. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hannah, can I get some flour and water?”, I ask Robert's youngest kid. She’s an amazing waitress and handles most of the orders by herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't know how to cook. You should ask Arianna, she's the baker, not me.” She replies. Then she goes back to doing whatever she's doing. Probably cleaning the tables. I don't like asking Arianna where ingredients are. She always gets so haughty. Maybe I could ask Rachel where they are. As I walk to the front I hear yelling. So, maybe not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arianna!” I yell, “Can you get me some flour and water!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I am met by a thump from upstairs. At least it was only one thump. If she's mad at me she thumps at least three times. A few seconds later she enters the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really? You haven't learned where the flour and water is by now?” she sneers at me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's not that. You know I can't measure. I always add too much water.” I say. She scoops a bunch of flour into a wooden bowl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sure you don't do it on purpose?” She walks over to a barrel full of water. They always pump a bunch before opening so they don't have to do it then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. And you know it. I love this place too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hands me the bowl then quickly goes back upstairs. I swear. Just because she worked the late shift last night doesn't mean she doesn't have to do any work until opening. I walk over to the counter and start mixing. Soon it becomes sticky and I have to add more flour so it doesn't make a mess. I had made that mistake before. Cleaning up was not fun. That's when Robert comes in. He puts an arm on my shoulder and says, “Come over here. Rachel can finish this up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He drags me away to the front. I wonder what he wants especially because I still have my apron on and am covered in flour. He turns and holds me so we’re face to face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you holding up? Your dads not pushing too hard?” He asks. It's just like him. He always worries about me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine. Don't worry. Today he just decided he’d had enough of me losing all our fish so he left without me.” I tell him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don't give me that bull. You only come before we open when you're hurt. Even when he leaves early. I know you hate cooking so this is very unlike you. What's wrong?” He grips my shoulders tighter. He really does care. And so does everyone else here. Even though they don’t show it I know they love me. And I love them too. And that's why I break down crying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Robert is quick to give me a hug. Soon Herb joins in. Then Hannah. Then Arianna. Finally Rachel. It's getting very hot in the center but it feels nice. I feel surrounded by family. It doesn't matter if I don't make it as a fisherman. I know that I'll always be welcome here.</span>
</p>
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